Chapter Five
Benedict cast a glance over his shoulder. As he’d suspected, Alexandra had trailed him. Despite her confidence that the latest man to arrive at her home tonight was her brother-in-law, Benedict could not risk her safety. If someone other than the head of the Colton Agency stood beyond the stout panel, the bloke would have to get past his revolver before he could lay a hand on Alex.
Approaching the door, he motioned Alex away. If this was a trap, he’d take the brunt of the attack.
“Who’s there?” she called out.
“Matthew Colton.” His voice sounded muffled through the heavy oak. “An agent reported the sound of gunfire from this vicinity.”
She slipped in front of Benedict and opened the door. “You’ve no need for concern,” she announced by way of greeting. “I was forced to put my Sharps to good use, but I’m perfectly well.”
Benedict recognized Colton on sight. The London press had plastered the Sinister Inspector’s likeness on the front page during the man’s trial for murder. The former Scotland Yard outcast had risen from disgrace to lead a mysterious agency rumored to work directly for the highest-level officials of Buckingham Palace.
Given the scowl on Colton’s face, he’d recognized Benedict as well. How much did he know of his history with Alex? Given the choice between encountering another ruffian of Alfred Rooney’s ilk and the calculating menace in Matthew Colton’s expression, Benedict would’ve preferred to face the dull-witted thug.
“Good evening, Alexandra,” Colton said. “May I come in?”
“Of course,” she said brightly. “I assume you have an idea of what’s happened.”
“Possibly.” Colton was deliberately vague as his attention settled on Benedict. “What in blazes are you doing here?”
Holstering his weapon, Benedict held his ground. He’d traveled hundreds of miles to protect Alex. Damned if he was going to let a man who’d scarcely avoided the hangman stare him down.
He met the other man’s glare with a look of nonchalance. “Have we met?”
“Marlsbrook, you know damned well who I am.” Colton entered the townhouse. “The question that must be settled is this—what conceivable reason might you have for entering Miss Quinn’s residence at this bloody hour of the night?”
“Come now, there’s no need to be unpleasant,” Alex said. “Benedict…Lord Marlsbrook…arrived on a rather crucial quest.”
“A quest?” Colton’s eyes narrowed. “What is going on here? An agent interrupted my sleep to inform me that you might be in danger.”
Alex planted her hands on her hips. “Precisely how did this agent come by such information? I trust you have not ordered surveillance of my comings and goings.”
“Nothing of the sort. The agent was on the trail of a criminal, a hired killer suspected in the death of one of Her Majesty’s most trusted couriers,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Informants in Whitechapel indicated the man was near your residence. When she arrived, she could not be certain of the exact location of the shots fired. If she had been able to verify their source, she would have intervened.”
She? So, the Colton Agency employed female agents. Ingenious. Few would suspect that a woman would be investigating a criminal enterprise.
“As it turned out, I was in a bit of a fix, but Marlsbrook…solved the problem.”
“He did, did he?” Colton cocked a dubious brow. “Would you care to explain?”
Alex looked past him, her attention settling on the pair of men who crossed the threshold behind Colton. An ancient specimen of a gent wearing a flat-brimmed cap flashed a snaggle-toothed grin, while the steely eyed young ruffian at his side appeared to survey the layout of the townhouse.
“Why, Bertram, I was not expecting to see you. What a lovely surprise.” She bestowed a beaming smile upon the old man.
“Truth be told, I wasn’t lookin’ to be dragged out of a warm bed to run off to your rescue meself. But anythin’ for ye, Miss Alexandra.”
The young man glared at Benedict. “If there’s a problem, we’re prepared to fix it, Miss Quinn.”
“There was an incident,” Benedict explained, resisting the urge to return his hardened stare. “I took care of it, but your assistance may still prove useful.”
“An incident?” Colton seemed to chew on the word. “What’s happened?”
“Miss Quinn came under attack. I stopped the bastard,” Benedict said, deliberately cool in his tone. A man like Colton thrived on intimidating people. Benedict would not join their ranks.
“My people on the street heard rumors that you were back in town.” Colton looped a thumb under his braces in what seemed a calculated movement. His jacket shifted, bringing his holster and gleaming revolver into view. “Why are you here?”
Benedict kept his attention on the ruffian who continued to watch him beneath hooded lids.
“Is the young lout with you?” Benedict asked.
“That lout, as you put it, is the best lock picker in London.” Colton’s reply was to the point.
“A commendable skill,” Benedict said, making no attempt to hide the derision in his tone.
“Hugh’s a fine lad,” Alex said. “His services have proven invaluable.”
“Thank ye, Miss Quinn,” the young man said, brushing a shock of black hair out of his eyes.
So, Alex was well-acquainted with Colton’s motley band of investigators. Not surprising, really. She’d never been one to shy away from intrigue.
“You were attacked?” Matthew Colton turned to Alex. “Is the vermin still breathing?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Benedict said. If he’d followed his gut, he’d have made sure Rooney never killed again. But they had to find out what the thug knew—it might be the key to saving both of their lives. “I suspect the bastard is well-known to you. Alfred Rooney’s his name.”
“Bollocks,” Colton said, nearly under his breath.
“He’s in my study.” Alex gestured to the trio to follow her down the hall.
As they entered the room, Rooney began to revive. Thrashing against the bindings, he hurled an epithet at Alex. Benedict restrained the urge to give the thug another dose of the cricket bat.
Colton gave a somber, knowing nod. “Now, now, Rooney, what have you gotten yourself involved in now? You should’ve stayed away from London.” His gaze shifted to Alex. “I regret you had to deal with him. He’s a vile sort.”
“Indeed,” she agreed.
“I followed the bastard from Cairo. I had to stop him,” Benedict said.
“I owe you a debt, Marlsbrook. Alexandra is family. And anyone who protects my family is an ally.” Colton’s low, gruff words came unexpectedly. Kneeling at Rooney’s side, he removed a knife from one pocket, cast it aside, then fished a gun out of the thug’s holster. “How did you know he’d come after her?”
“I can’t tell you that. I’ve been fool enough to trust the wrong people in the past.” Benedict threw the still-glaring youth named Hugh a pointed glance. “I know better than to make that mistake again.”
“I know these men well.” Tiny lines crinkled around Alex’s eyes. Her voice was quiet and gentle. “They’re good, honest souls.”
“That doesn’t matter. Even an angel can be corrupted.” Benedict caught her hand in his and drew her closer. “Come with me. I require a moment of your time…alone.”
Colton stepped into his path. “I’d think twice about that if I were you, Marlsbrook. I don’t give a damn about your title. I know too much about the kind of man you are.”
“I might say the same about you. Now step aside.”
“You’re a damned fool if you think I’m letting you alone with her.”
Alex broke away from Benedict’s light hold, pivoted on her heel, and crossed her arms over her chest. The slightest of scowls tugged at her mouth as she fixed Colton with a glare.
“Might I remind you that I am not a child? I have traveled the Nile Valley without benefit of a chaperone. I certainly do not need one now. Quite honestly, given the fact there is a tethered brute lying here in my study, I’d say there are far more pressing matters to consume your interest. Perhaps you have an idea of the best way to proceed where Mr. Rooney is concerned.”
Colton nodded his agreement, then instructed his assistants to prepare his carriage to transport their prisoner. The men marched from the room, their boots pounding heavy against the floor.
Turning to Alex, Colton softened his expression. “We will arrange to deliver Rooney to the Yard within the hour. I’ll work with the Chief Inspector to oversee his questioning.”
“An excellent idea,” Alex concurred. “In the meantime, if you will excuse us, Lord Marlsbrook and I have a matter of considerable importance to discuss.”
Lord Marlsbrook. Blast it, how cold the name sounded on her lips.
Colton directed a cutting stare his way. “I am not leaving this residence. Not until I have some answers.”
Mischief twinkled in Alex’s eyes. “That is indeed comforting. If Marlsbrook should be overcome by a sudden urge to ravish me, I am confident you and your men will be prepared to spring into action.”
“You are more like Jennie than you let on.” Colton’s words bore a note of wry humor.
Alex’s full mouth curved softly at the corners. Ah, what Benedict wouldn’t give to see her direct a smile at him.
“I take that as a compliment.” Her smile cooled as she turned to Benedict. “Might I suggest we move our discussion to the parlor? It’s far more pleasant there with no trussed-up criminals to trip over.”
With a nod, he accompanied her from the study. They walked along the corridor without speaking. As they entered the small, elegantly decorated room, Benedict closed and latched the door behind them.
Surrendering to an impulse he could no longer deny, he caught both of her hands in one of his. Blast it, how he wanted to touch her. He couldn’t begin to explain an undeniable hunger to hold her, even in this small, chaste way. He only knew the desire for skin-to-skin contact penetrated to the bone.
Closing the small distance between them, he caressed the curve of her face. The time that had passed had only brought her beauty into clearer focus. At first, he thought she might pull away. But she’d didn’t. She stood quite still, watching him, an intense curiosity blazing in her eyes.
“If I live to be a very old woman, I do not think I will ever understand you,” she said. “I believed you to be little better than a pirate. I’m not quite sure what to make of you now that you’ve decided to be noble.”
“Noble?” He laughed quietly. “Doubtful, indeed.”
She cocked her head, the gesture so subtle, few would notice. But he saw the questions the small movement signaled. Had she detected a false note in his words?
A little vee formed between her brows. “What has happened to you? Has the drive to make your fortune brought you happiness?”
“It was about more than the money. You know that, Alexandra.”
She gave a little shrug as she seemed to study him. Relishing the feeling of having her so near, he drank in the scent of a gentle fragrance perfuming her body.
“I must warn you—what I have to say may seem quite mad,” he said, regretting the need to break the comfortable silence.
Her irises darkened to smoky topaz. “The last hour of my life has been imbued with a clear sense of madness. Why should this be any different?”
“I must return to the Nile Valley.” He threaded his fingers through the loose tendrils of her hair, the strands like silk against his skin. “The answers I need are there. I’m asking you to come with me.”
Her charcoal-fringed eyes widened. “You were right. Your request strikes me as entirely beyond belief.”
“What better way to assess the situation than to see the site of the latest excavation with your own eyes—the place where Hamid was killed? With your penchant for observing even the most minute detail, I don’t doubt you will uncover any signs I missed.”
“I see no point to that.” With what seemed a deliberate slowness, she shook her head, emphasizing her refusal. “I assume you obtained a rendering of the message left behind by the unfortunate guide.”
“I did arrange for a photograph. It goes without saying that I will provide it for your examination.”
“Excellent. In that case, it would make no sense for me to rush off to Egypt to study the symbols.” Her tone brimmed with a crispness that belied the warmth in her eyes. “The process may take some time. I will message you as soon as I have deciphered the hieroglyphics.”
“I must press my point, Alexandra. I would not make this request if the situation were not critical.”
“Alexandra, is it?” Her mouth tipped up in a wry smile. “How is it that you never use my full name unless you are issuing an entreaty of some sort?”
He brushed the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip. Her slight smile dimmed. By God, she was lovely when she looked at him with challenge in her eyes. Even now, when adrenaline coursed through his body and he knew full well the urgency of his circumstances, she had the power to disarm him with little more than a look.
“I was not aware of that particular tendency,” he said. “But you are cognizant of it. In bringing it to my attention, you validate my point. You possess a remarkable faculty for observation. The slightest detail and the most obscure patterns do not escape your notice—all the more reason for you to come back into the field with me.”
“I understand your reasoning, but I’m inclined to suspect your motives have a great deal to do with the map you believe I possess.”
“I do not believe you possess it. I know it is here. Somewhere.”
“Even if I had the blasted thing, I would not turn it over to you.” She pinned him with a glare. “I am well aware of the means you’ve used to restore your family estate. I’ve no reason to expect this situation would be any different.”
“Getting our hands on that map may be a matter of life and death—ours.”
“If the map does indeed exist, possessing it will not serve to protect us.” She paused, pulling in a low breath and releasing it slowly. “I know your greed. You only seek out artifacts that will bring you more tin. Have you forgotten Stockwell’s anger when you came upon the Amulet of Bastet? His colleague, Professor Stanwyck, was also searching for the relic. Stanwyck would have done the right thing. He would’ve delivered the piece to the Cairo museum. You, on the other hand, claimed it for some rube who will hide it away in his mansion. You took that ancient treasure for your own gain.”
Despite the censure in her tone, Benedict could not deny he’d enjoyed besting his chief competitor in their pursuit of the pendant-sized relic. As wealthy as he was arrogant, Gavin Stanwyck could well afford to be altruistic. For his part, Benedict could not allow his misgivings to stand in the way of collecting the small fortune an Egypt-besotted collector would pay to acquire the gold and emerald sculpture of the cat goddess.
“The woman I knew would have leapt at the chance to seek out such a remarkable piece. You would not have stood by and allowed Stanwyck to swoop in and take the credit.”
“The woman you knew no longer exists.” The words dripped like ice droplets from her tongue. “As you and I both know, this matter has nothing to do with crediting you with the find. Stockwell’s dismay—and mine—centered around the disposition of the asset. Unlike you, I still possess my integrity.”
“Integrity does not satisfy a creditor.”
“You have your reasons. You always have.” Her gaze dropped to his hand, her own clasped within his fingers, then lifted to settle on his face. “It’s odd, really. Your touch still feels so very right. But the look in your eyes… You are a stranger to me now.”
“I could change that,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed. She regarded him with a look of faint curiosity, as if the possibility intrigued her. Did she sense that he meant every word?
“I do not believe that is possible.” Gently, she broke off the contact. “I am grateful to you for coming to my defense against that horrible man, but I see no point in continuing this discussion. Colton and his assistants will see to it that Mr. Rooney is delivered to the proper authorities. After you provide the photograph of the symbols, I will promptly relay whatever information I derive from the image. But I do not believe I can be of assistance in any venture you might envision.”
“I did not come here to involve you in a scheme. I’ve told you the truth.”
“All of it?” One finely arched brow crooked slightly. “I suspect there’s some detail you’ve conveniently left out, some aspect that might play out to your advantage.”
Benedict paused. As always, she’d seen through him.
“I need that map,” he said. “We cannot risk it falling into the wrong hands.”
“I’m afraid I cannot help you, Benedict. I think it best that we conclude this discussion.”
“You’re making a mistake. That map is here. Somewhere. Stockwell would not have lied to me.”
“I do not believe Professor Stockwell intended to deceive you. But that does not change the facts. If such a map exists, I do not have the blasted thing.” She marched to the door. “It is high time you leave. Colton will arrange a secure location for you to lay your head tonight.”
“I am fully capable of proceeding to my lodging without that man’s assistance.” He reached for her, but she pulled away. “You know what I need, Alexandra. I am leaving for Cairo in thirty-six hours. I have secured your passage. I want you to come with me.”
“You are nothing, if not determined. Pity I’ve no intention of joining you on your quest.”
“I would not ask you to accompany me if it were not a matter of great urgency.”
“I do hate to disappoint you, but I will not be on that ship.” Her mouth thinned. “I trust you will send a messenger with the image you wish me to inspect.”
“That won’t be necessary.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the packet that contained the photograph. Her slender, elegantly tapered fingers curved around the corners of the package.
“I will communicate my findings without delay.”
“Without delay? Ever efficient, eh, Alexandra?” He steeled himself against the urge to feel her skin again against his, to thread his fingers through the coppery brown locks of hair framing her face.
“One of my better qualities, or so I’m told. I allow few distractions from my work.”
“I must say, that is a shame. A woman like you deserves more.”
“More?” Her lips pursed as she contemplated the word. “How very odd, coming from you. I’ve never known a man more driven to accomplish his objectives.”
“True. I consider myself an expert on the subject.”
An unexpected sadness filled her eyes. “I suppose you will tell me I deserve better than the likes of you.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that,” Benedict said.
Once, when he was a younger, more foolish man, he would have lost himself in her amber gaze. Why was it still so bloody hard to keep his mind off the sweetness of her mouth?
“You should leave now, Benedict,” she said quietly, the notes of her voice colored by an emotion she could not quite conceal.
“That would be the prudent thing, wouldn’t it?”
He reached for the latch, then stopped. Damn it, this might well be the last chance he’d have to sample those lush lips of hers.
“One more thing…before I go,” he said, reaching for her.
She offered no resistance as he pulled her to him. She was warm and pliant in his arms, and she melted against him, the soft curves of her body pressed and molded to his. Desire surged through him. God above, how many nights had he endured without the feel of her in his arms?
Cursing himself for a fool, he tipped her head back.
And he kissed her.